


Nothing Good in Dying

by clearascountryair



Series: Once Upon Another Time [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, They're out, fitzsimmons are done with this shit, he just isn't born because the loop's broken?, major character not quite death, spoiler: it's deke and he's not dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-26 13:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14403057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearascountryair/pseuds/clearascountryair
Summary: When the loop is broken and the dust settles, Fitzsimmons leave S.H.I.E.L.D. and try to find peace in the adopted country they’ve never gotten to explore.





	1. Nothing Good in Dying

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agentcalliope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentcalliope/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Casey! Welcome to part 1! Part 2 (or part 1 chapter 2) will be posted next week.  
> All titles in the series are from Once Upon Another Time by Sara Bareilles.

Jemma hadn’t been able to let go of his hand, even as it felt less and less real.  Deke had laughed.

“You don’t get to cry,” he had said. “ _You’ll_ get to see me again.”

Without warning, Fitz had thrown his arms around him.  “We’re really fucking proud of you, you know?”

Deke had snorted.  “You better be. I saved your ass.”

And then he was nothing.  Fitz and Jemma both clung at thin air.

“We broke the loop,” she said, and burst into tears.

Hours later, when they arrived back at the Lighthouse, sitting around the rec room, no one seemed to know how to speak.  May and Coulson sat on the armchairs in opposite corners, taking turns staring at each other. Mack, Daisy, and Piper stood in the doorway, torn between entering the room where their team had gathered and running far, far away.  Fitz and Jemma sat on the couch, closer than they had ever soberly sat in front of the team, staring anywhere but where Mack and Daisy stood in the door and anywhere except each other. Her head on Fitz’s shoulder, Jemma held tightly Elena’s hand, thankful the other woman had quickly situated herself on Jemma’s other side, aware of the secret now shared only between the three of them.

May sighed.  “It’s not like he had a family here that we could contact.”

Fitz curled himself deeper into Jemma, giving up all pretense of discretion.  No one seemed to notice anyway.

“I mean, he’s not technically dead, is he?” Piper asked.

Daisy scoffed and stared at her feet.  “Just not born.”

Jemma pressed her fist to her mouth.

“I don’t think so,” Elena said, shocking everyone with the conviction in her voice.  “He’s just not here anymore because he never needed to be. Maybe we’re going to make it where he’s born into an unbroken earth.  Maybe when we’re all old and retired, we’ll see him again. Just without the lifetime of trauma.”

Fitz let out a sharp breath against Jemma’s cheek, reaching over her to hold Elena’s hand before he stood.

“Can we debrief more in the morning?” he asked Coulson.  “Can we just...sleep?”

Coulson blinked and looked away from May just as she turned to look at him.

“We’ll debrief in the morning,” he said, as though the idea had just occurred to him.

Jemma stood and followed Fitz towards the door.  Although Piper moved to let them through, Daisy shifted so that she and Mack blocked the way out.

“I just want to sleep,” Fitz said, his voice cracking.

Daisy swallowed and Jemma could see how hard she was fighting herself to not give in, to not let them pass.  She willed her friend, for the first time, to break. But Daisy shook her head.

“You can’t be out here.  You don’t get to...you can’t…”

“You can’t hate me or my actions more than I do.  I will go back in the morning. Just let me talk to my wife.  Let me…” He shook his head. “Please.”

“No.”

Jemma squeezed her eyes shut.  “Daisy, let us through.” She took a deep breath and added, “You’re not in charge anymore.”

From his chair, Coulson said, “Let them sleep.”

Jemma watched as Daisy tried to keep her face emotionless, but when she stepped aside to let them pass, Jemma could see in her eyes that, to Daisy, she had crossed the line.  To Daisy, she had joined the unforgivable.

She swallowed and told herself to mourn it in the morning.  To acknowledge it now would shatter her beyond repair. She would sleep now, and mourn fresh in the morning.

They went back to their bunk and undressed in silence, not bothering to shower or find their pajamas.  They undressed and crawled into bed, wrapped around each other, and waited for the perpetual exhaustion to fade into sleep.

Jemma closed her eyes, revelling in the comfort of Fitz’s breath against her forehead and waited for sleep.  And waited. And waited. And felt Fitz’s breathing steady as his grip on her became less panicked. And felt his muscles relax against her as he dreamt of a world that wasn’t broken.

(It was strange, in a way, that to prevent the Earth from breaking, they had to shatter their own world)

And she continued to wait.

Some time later, she sat up, unsure if she had just awakened or if she had finally given up on trying to sleep.

“Fitz.”  She didn’t bother trying to keep her voice down.  She didn’t bother trying to ease him slowly into wakefulness.  “ _Fitz._ ”

He scrambled to sit.  “What wrong?”

“I want him to have a future.”

He moved to sit in front of her, wrapping one arm around her back and pressing his forehead to hes.  “I know.”

She shook her head.  “I want to make sure he gets a future.  A happy one. I want him to grow up knowing his mum.  Knowing us. And I want our daughter to grow up unafraid.  I never want to leave her alone at night unsure if we’re coming back.  I want a home with a nursery and a backyard and a swingset. And a trampoline that we’re so afraid of her getting hurt on.  I want her to have a dog and siblings and know our parents. I want her to be happy and grow old, really old, and die an old lady in her sleep long, long after us.”

She took a deep breath.

“I want to leave S.H.I.E.L.D.”


	2. Where I Was To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thanks @agentcalliope for having a birthday and finally forcing me to write this

Fitz started at her, blinking.   Then, without a word, he surged forward to kiss her soundly and pull away before she could register. 

“Okay,” he said, and climbed out of bed to dress.  “Get dressed. I’ll be right back.”

When the door shut behind him, Jemma could only stare at where he had been standing a moment before.  

He thought she meant now.  

He thought that this very moment, they should pack up their things and disappear in the middle of the night. She swallowed, suddenly nervous at the idea of leaving their entire life behind.  She’d been S.H.I.E.L.D. since she was sixteen years old. Fifteen, really, if you counted it based on her acceptance to the Academy. 

But staying, now, scared her far more than leaving.  

Of course she had meant now.

She got out of bed and hastily began to dress, unaware that she had been counting her breaths until Fitz’s return until the door creaked open.  

“Jemma?”

Fitz stepped into the room, a large hiking backpack on each shoulder and a piece of paper in his hand.  He held it out to her without another word. 

> _ Fitzsimmons (Fitzsimmons’? Fitzsimmonses? This is the only thing your marriage has complicated)— _
> 
> _ I have a feeling that, in letting Fitz go back to your room tonight and not the holding cell, I have ensured that I will not see you again for a long time.  The two of you have been among the best agents this organization has ever seen. Watching the two of you grow has been one of the biggest joys and biggest stressors of my career. But as sad as I am to see you go, I am more relieved than I have ever been.  If you look in the envelope, you’ll see your resignation form. I’ve filled out what I need, all you need is to sign it. Part of your severance package is also in there. The rest I’ll transfer to whatever account you want. There’s a number on the envelope.  Just text me the information. I promise we won’t come looking until you’re read to be found. Get yourselves a proper honeymoon. Take any of the cars where you need to go and then leave it. I’ll make sure the GPS doesn’t work until you’re on the next leg of your journey.   _
> 
> _ I wish you both a long, happy, healthy, and calm life.  It has been an honor serving this world with you.  _
> 
> _ Phil Coulson _

Jemma looked up, tears in her eyes.

“It was with the travel gear,” Fitz said.  “Ten grand cash.”

She let out a shuddering breath.  “Just like that?”

Fitz nodded.  “We don’t have to.”  He dropped the backpacks and wrapped his arms around her.  “We will figure something out.”

“No.”  She placed a hand on his cheek smiling, genuinely, even through her tears.  “We’ve lost so much here, Fitz. So much energy, so much  _ time _ .  I don’t want us to lose any more time.  I just want to run away from all of this.  I want us to have fun. I want us to go places for no reason other than the pictures will look good on the mantel in the house we’ll one day own.  I want us to do all those silly, pointless things we never did as teenagers or in our twenties. And then I want us to be boring, Fitz. I want us to be so freaking boring with a house in the suburbs and a backyard and 2.5 children and a dog.  I don’t want to be here anymore.”

He kissed her brow.  “Then we should start packing.”  Then he laughed. “And what happened to our other 0.5 child?”

Jemma pulled back and shook her head.  “Nothing. We’ll leave here and not have to worry.  Nothing will ever happen to them.”

“I’m questioning your understanding of biology.”

Jemma just smiled and went over to the dresser.  

Packing didn’t take them very long.  They only through into the bags what was most needed: some changes of clothes, their medicines, toiletries, the framed photographs on the dresser.  They left their laptops and tablets sitting on the bed. They were S.H.I.E.L.D. issued.

“It feels wrong,” Jemma said, “to not say goodbye.”

Fitz grabbed a notepad from the desk and held it out.  “You have better handwriting.”

“You’ll tell me what to say?”

Fitz smiled.  “We’ll figure it out together.”

Jemma nodded and laughed, though she was sure Fitz could tell she was about to cry.  “I don’t know if we should do Daisy first or last.”

He swallowed.  “Start with Elena,” he said.  “She’ll be the most vocally mad at first, but she’ll be the first to forgive us.”

Working quickly and quietly, they wrote their letters, first to Elena, then to Mack, then to Coulson.

“What about May?” Fitz asked, folding up the most recent sheet Jemma had handed him and writing Coulson’s name on the outside.  “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“I do,” Jemma said, writing quickly before tearing the page off the pad and handing it to Fitz.

> _ This is listening to my gut.  Thank you for everything. We love you. _

She looked up at Fitz.  “Are you ready?”

“Not at all.”

Jemma smiled softly.  “Yes, you are,” she said, handing him the pen and paper.

Fitz shook his head.  “You write neater. Daisy always gives me shit for my handwriting.”

“Fitz.”  She moved closer to him on the bed.  “Whether or not she’ll admit it right now, Daisy loves you.”

“She loves you, too,” Fitz insisted.

“Differently.  Daisy’s my best friend—after you, of course.  But she’s my best friend I’m not married to. We disagree, but we don’t fight because I choose to love Daisy and she chooses to love me.”

Fitz blinked.  “And I don’t?”

“No, Fitz,” Jemma said, still smiling.  “I don’t think you choose to love her. I think you just do.  The two of you fight more than anyone I know, but even when you hate each other, you still love each other.  It’s like me and my brother. I don’t get as angry at anyone as I get with Liam. And no one hurts me more. But I love him.  Daisy’s your sister, Fitz. You owe her a goodbye. I’ll help you.”

“This sucks,” he whispered.

“Not as much as not saying goodbye would.”

> _ Dear Daisy, _
> 
> _ That sounds really formal.  I’m sorry for my shitty handwriting.  Jemma insisted that I write this instead of using her as our scribe but this letter comes from both of us, even though Jemma is saying right now that it doesn’t and that she loves you, but she won’t say goodbye. _
> 
> _ Blocking her from reading this, she says that the difference between us is that you two choose to love each other while you and I can’t help it.  She won’t say it, but I think she’s afraid that saying goodbye means choosing not to love you anymore. I promise you she still does. _
> 
> _ I’m sorry I hurt you.  This time and all the others.  I’m sorry I haven’t always been there when you needed me and I’m sorry I won’t be there when you read this.  Jemma and I spent almost a decade genuinely believing we would never find people we weren’t related to who cared about us and listened to us and understood us even when they had no idea what we were saying.  This isn’t goodbye forever even though it’s really starting to sound like it, but we’re only getting one you in our lives forever. That’s pretty definite. So we’ll come back one day. Or you’ll track us down. (And maybe it won’t be too far from now because as scared as I am about how much Jemma’s been talking about family and kids, I can’t imagine a future for us, a near future, that doesn’t have that.  And that’s a part of our life that we won’t do without you. Not a making kids thing, obviously. Just you’re too much of our life to not be here for the having them.) _
> 
> _ I don’t think you’ll ever leave SHIELD.  I don’t really want you to. But I want you to be safe and take a break from time to time.  You can come visit the 2.5 children and dog Jemma just told me we’re going to have (yes, I asked her what happened to that other half a kid but she didn’t think it was funny). _
> 
> _ Anyway J is reading over my shoulder again and crying, so I have to say goodbye because if I keep writing, I’ll talk myself out of leaving. _
> 
> _ We love you, Daisy.  I love you. Thank you for being my you. _

He didn’t bother signing it.  He folded it up, scribbled her name on the outside, and leaned forward into Jemma’s waiting arms.

“We’re actually doing this,” he said.

“Where will we go?”

Fitz shrugged.  “We can be in Pittsburg in five hours, less if we don’t stop.”

Jemma managed to laugh.  “What’s in Pittsburg?”

“Nothing, I think.  Just the closest city to us.  We can drop the car there, buy a used car of our own, and just keep moving.”  He kissed her lips, softly and slowly. “Where do you want to go?” he asked when he was finished.

She took his cheeks in her hands, shaking her own head as she laughed and pulled him back to her.  “Let’s just drive.”

Leaving their letters on their bed, they gave room a final glance over.  Clasping hands, each with a bag over their shoulder, they left the room and walked towards the garage.  Neither of them looked back.

Neither of them wanted to.

  
  



End file.
